Today one of the house showings was CONVENIENTLY scheduled for right when the kids got off the bus. Honestly, I don’t think this whole house-selling thing has disrupted our lives enough. I’d like people to start coming for showings in the MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. Just to keep things hopping around here.
So, on account of the needing to clear the premises immediately (“Touch nothing! Put your backpack away and GET IN THE CAR!”) and the fact that it was about 95 degrees here today (Welcome to New England; take your pick of snow or sizzle, without any of those pesky temperatures inbetween), we opted to go for ice cream.
Actually, I’d already decided on ice cream before they even got home. Because, um, I wanted ice cream. But the moment I started the car, Chickadee started wheedling.
“Mama? Mama! It is SO HOT and you know what would be SO FUN and also take about the same amount of time as someone looking at the house? GETTING ICE CREAM!”
Finally I had to tell her that she was making it very difficult for me to surprise them with a trip for ice cream, what with all of her begging to go for ice cream. She panicked (thinking, perhaps, that I would change my mind?) and insisted that she would act surprised when we got there. Monkey continued alternating between looking out the window and kicking my seat. When I asked him if he wanted some ice cream—after Chickadee and I had been discussing it for five minutes—he acted like this was the first he’d heard of it. But his response was very enthusiastic.
At the ice cream place, we agreed on kiddie sundaes for them, because they come with chocolate sauce, sprinkles, and a dinosaur cookie on top. Monkey selected mint chocolate chip ice cream, which is his current favorite. I asked Chickadee what kind of ice cream she wanted and she looked at me like I had six heads.
“VANILLA,” she huffed.
“Vanilla? Just vanilla? You can have whatever you want, you know.”
“MOM. There’s going to be SPRINKLES and CHOCOLATE. I don’t want it all BUSY. Just vanilla!”
Lesson number 1: You don’t want your sundae all busy, woman. Sheesh.
So. The kids got their little sundae cups. I got a scoop of ice cream in a dish. (Key lime pie, complete with buttery little chunks of pie crust. I cannot IMAGINE where all this weight I’ve gained came from. Quite the puzzle.) We found a picnic table and sat down to eat.
For a minute or so there was only blessed silence. Ahhhhh.
Monkey was bent over his sundae in earnest, carefully scooping all the sprinkles off the top and eating them. Once he finished eating those, he plucked out the dinosaur cookie and started nibbling on that.
I was curious whether Monkey liked the cookie, because Chickadee had given me a bite of hers and—although the cookies are very cute—I thought it tasted like cardboard. “How’s that dinosaur taste, buddy?” I asked him.
Monkey pondered this while taking another bite. “Prehistoric!” he finally declared.
Lesson number 2: Maybe the dinosaur cookies are more authentic than I really want to know about.
By the time we arrived back home, sticky and satiated, everyone was in a good mood. In fact, I didn’t even flip out when I discovered that the showing realtor left my house unlocked. I just checked to make sure nothing had been broken and then let my realtor know.
I am envisioning many more ice cream runs before this is over.